I was never much of a "pet person" growing up. I liked pets, but never thought of having one of my own. After all, the hair on my friends clothes - to think that their pets slept in bed with them - was beyond comprehension, what about all those "bugs" dogs have!
In fact, I one time witnessed a friends mother giving their dog a lick from her ice-cream cone ==shocking==. Those people even talked "funny" to their pets - it was all very strange - Thankfully my mother reassured me that pets were "dirty" and we would never have a pet - "the hair, the messes, etc." - I was safe!
Funny how things change. My freshman year in college, I had a friend who had three "monsters" (Labs) - yes, they lived in the house, ate in the kitchen and slept on the beds. My friend also talked to their dogs as if they were "babies" - Over that summer I fell madly in love with those fuzzy-faced-beasts. It was the loyalty and gratitude of those "babies" that stuck me first.
Soon, I would seek out to volunteer in any capacity as long as it involved animals - I would dream of a time when I would have my own home, and have my own dog hair, dog dish - share my bed with my fuzzy-friend and even talk to them in a high-pitched voice.
When I got married, the first thing I did after we purchased our home - you guessed it - right to the shelter I went . . .
My kidz are my babies - I can’t help but talk to them in that "funny" voice even when people are about - in fact, I talk to all dogs that way, and I make no apologies about it.
I was told one time that I was "laconic" - sorry for the long post.
It's # 2 for me!
Allie